


Mourning

by SmutWithPlot



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutWithPlot/pseuds/SmutWithPlot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A broken heart can make you do terrible things. In a moment of weakness, a compromise is reached, a promise is made, and a secret is kept. Set shortly after Skin Deep, but during Season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mourning

**Author's Note:**

> Eurgh. This bug will not let me SLEEP. Occupational hazard of being a writer. Does the muse care that I have to be at work in seven hours? NO. It wants me to WRITE, damned thing. FINE. Maybe if I write it all down, it'll no longer be inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to...

She was thinking of Graham.

It was a quiet day. Traffic was smooth, no threats were made, and Regina was actually busy with mayoral work. Henry was at school (for once), and Emma played with the idea of hitting Granny's for a roast beef on rye. As she played with the idea, her fingers played with the little black radio on her desk.

 _We get so little time with them_ , Gold had said. He'd meant Henry, but it held true for so many things. For Neal. For Graham. For  _normalcy_. He'd had no family, just like her. Regina, if you would count a lover, but judging by his last actions, that must not have been a very fulfilling relationship. Settling for something, rather than being alone. She could relate to  _that_ well enough... It summed up most of her life, really. She tapped the antennae on her lips, wondering what Graham would have thought about her having the radios. That she was using them with Henry. Given how he'd given her the job as deputy despite (or perhaps  _to_ spite) Regina, he might have commended their use to further frustrate the Mayor. Maybe.

In the quiet, she heard the door open, and turned in her chair to face whoever it was. Maybe it was the mail? But instead, she heard the distinct clip of a cane on tile, and her body tightened. She stood, moved to where she could reach her gun easily, and faced Mr. Gold as he slipped in, eyes wandering the place, doubtless noting everything of importance that he might need in some cleverly worded argument, or perhaps another poor, unfortunate soul that was victim to his legalistic, but perhaps not very legal business dealings.

"Mr. Gold," she greeted, with a warning in her voice. "Come to make a confession?"

"A confession?" A smile tugged at his lips. "Now, why would I do that?" He stopped a little ways away, hands on his cane. "What is it I have done now?"

Emma shrugged. "Beats me." She leaned against her desk, arms crossed. "Assaulted the town florist again? Or maybe it was a plumber this time."

He didn't meet her eyes. "I thought we'd agreed that was circumstantial evidence at best."

"And I told you to keep out of trouble. What do you want?"

"I want..." His voice trailed off, and his fingers fidgeted. It was a sparse movement, but the slight squeak of leather from his gloves gave it away. "...Well, I wanted to talk to you about that, actually."

"French didn't die, did he?" she asked, suddenly wary. Did she let a killer loose?

"No no... Not about French." His lips hardened in a snarl around the name, and he busied himself by taking off his gloves, eyes fetched on them. "It rather has something to do with the other half of the case. The one I had charged you with." His eyes met hers, now. A warm chocolate that looked hauntingly familiar, even if she couldn't place it. "About the stolen item."

"The item I never found?" she clarified.

"Exactly the one." He pocketed his gloves. "The item in question is very dear to me. Very few know of its existence. Much less it's importance to me." She frowned -- was his accent getting thicker? "Only a couple people know. You... are now in that number."

She gritted her teeth, wary. "Okay. So?"

"I need to be sure you can keep this information... _discreet_." There was a glint of gold in his mouth that added an inhuman bite to him.

"You're not threatening me, are you?"

He took another step forward, just about arm's reach. "You know what happens when you corner an animal, Miss Swan?"

She looked around at her own walls, and didn't like the suggestion. She warned him with her eyes, but that chocolate blazed back and he continued.

"It's very simple, really. Fight or flight." To be fair, the brogue made a nice crispiness to the words. "Given the chance, the animal will run. Avoid the conflict. Live to die another day. But when it's cornered..." He gestured with a hand, finger flitting back like a panicked rabbit, and stopping at her. "It has no choice. No choice but to fight. To fight to the death, if that's what it takes. To do what it must to stay alive."

"Gold, are you  _threatening_ me?" She grit her teeth hard, the words coming out like a growl.

Gold's words stayed smooth and clear. "I don't think I have to, Miss Swan. I believe you are a reasonable person." He tilted his head to one side. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

Her brow shot up. "A bribe? I mean, sure, you could afford it. But who says I can be bought?"

"I'm saying nothing of the sort," he replied evenly. His hands rested on the cane.  _Patient_.

"A favor, then," she countered with a smirk. "I owe you one."

"Alas, dearie, I am saving that one for another day," he answered. His fingers squeezed at the cane. "But perhaps another."

She tilted her head to the side... Pain in the ass though he was, he had delivered on more than one occasion. Her eyes flitted to the radio. Back to Graham.

"A kiss, then."

His face was... shocked. He recovered quickly, but swallowed. "A fair bargain. Done."

She gaped. "Are you serious?"

"You named a price, and I agreed," he answered, though his fingers tightened and untightened at his side, nervous. "A kiss it is."

"I was just--"

" _You named a price, and I agreed_ ," he growled, his voice dark and angry. The fingers were in a tight fist, eyes flashing, lips tight. "Do not make a Deal with which you cannot deliver."

She gaped a moment... and closed her mouth. "Fine."

She watched him. He looked down, eyes closed, and took a deep breath... He exhaled it noisily through his nose, and she wondered exactly which of the pair of them was more embarassed by the situation. And he licked his lip... bit it. And for a moment, she decided he didn't look half-bad flustered.

It was almost attractive. A tiny bit arousing. He was wearing a handsome suit. A man of power brought down by a kiss. It was an intriguing concept. She gave him a moment to prepare himself, and busied herself by straightening her shirt. And her hair a little.

When she looked at him again, he was watching her now. His eyes... There was something haunting about them. Haunted. She wondered a moment what the big secret was, who  _she_ was... And who she had been to him that she was worth all of this.

"Alright." He straightened himself, like a man facing the noose. "Are you ready?"

"Might as well." Emma was nervous. Strange man agreeing to kiss her. In broad daylight. Kind of weird.

He was adorably shy about it, though. A hesitant shuffle. His hand... it reached out to her, and stopped mid air, and hung there, uncertain, as he stepped forward, eyes slipping closed, lips parted...

She took pity on him, and closed the space. His lips were... surprisingly soft. She kissed, and he answered, if with trepidation. Then again, with more purpose, and she kissed back, too.

He smelt of spices... of wood. Graham had smelt of wood. Thinking of Graham hurt, but this kiss felt nice, and she leaned in with more fervour, and so did he.

A soft growl, and then that hand was on her hip, his body moving against hers. She answered in kind, hands on fine suit, and then under, inside, fingers finding the leather of a belt that made her heart pick up a beat. A soft moan from her, answered with a groan from him, and his hands were in her  _hair_ , and they were both getting a bit lost, as she tugged him closer, legs doing what they'd wanted for so long, sliding up, a claw from him squeezing at her arse, as those soft lips slipped from her mouth to her jaw, to her ear, a breath growl that made her melt, teeth tugging. She let out another soft moan as he tugged her closer, hips brushing against her, and she gasped at a hardness, fingers hooking on his belt loops. Her head tilted back as his mouth ravaged her neck, hungry and growling, hot breath and teeth and lips and a tongue as soft as silk, down and down to her shirt. There was the clatter of a cane, and another hand was on her breast, tugging at the cloth, and she gasped.

"Graham!"

The hand squeezed and-- And stopped. The kisses stopped, and his grip loosed, both hands falling to a modest place on her hips. When he pulled away, he couldn't hide the hurt in his eyes.

"...I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't think--"

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered quickly. "I... I didn't know I would, I..."

He swallowed, hard, eyes blinking furiously, and he touched a hand to her cheek, a tender thumb brushing over her soft skin.

"...It's alright. It... It's just be a long time for me. That's all." He looked down, and so did she. The growing bulge withered, and she unhooked her fingers.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gold," she said again, really meaning it this time. He tried for a stoic face, but his eyes... His eyes  _hurt_. Haunting, haunted, almost familiar eyes. He turned away from her, a hand light on her knee as he bent down for his cane, his posture awkward. She wanted to offer to help, but somehow knew she shouldn't. When he had it, he stepped back, releasing her.

He swallowed again, looking away. "Is our arrangement satisfactory, Miss Swan?" The hurt was still in his voice, soft and quiet.

"Yeah. It's satisfactory," she answered. A wry comment not meant to be serious, and they were both all the worse for it.

"Then the price has been paid." His voice held its usually venom. "I expect you to keep your end of the Deal."

She watched him go, the taste of spices in her mouth, the touch of his lips... she touched her neck, her skin tingling from where his teeth had worried her skin. Her eyes widened, and she ran to the bathroom to check, but for all his hunger, he'd not left a mark.

Turkey and rye. And maybe a drink.

xxxx

Years later, it was turkey and rye again, but this time she hadn't ordered it yet. She sat at the bar at Granny's, waiting, and smiled as Henry came through the door.

"Mom!"

"Hey, kiddo," she greeted, grinning. She gave him a hug, kissing his head, and he stole the seat next to her. "How was work?"

"Grandpa Gold taught me about accounting today," he said, nodding. "Actually a lot cooler than you think. Especially when you get to learn all the ways you can make off with  _millions_ if people don't see. Kinda cool."

"Yes, well, it's a job that requires a trustworthy individual," his grandfather said, coming in behind him, his wife on his arm. "Stay trustworthy, and maybe one day you can run off with the millions and not get caught."

"Rumple..." His wife gave him a stern eye, and he smiled, a soft and loving thing that made his eyes wrinkle. Neal's eyes. She'd fallen in love with those eyes, and seeing them on Gold and Henry were like little reminders that Neal still had pieces of him left behind. She watched them find a booth, Belle chattering about something, and her husband giving a warm chuckle. Thinking of Neal had her thinking of Graham... And that had her thinking of something else.

"Hey, hold on a sec," she said, standing. "Go ahead and order, I want to ask your grandfather something."

"Yeah, sure," he said, voice dark with age. He was a young man, now. Would be a grown man, soon. How things had changed.

"Hey, Gold." She stopped at the booth, and he looked up at her. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"If there are lost millions, I swear, I'm a trustworthy person," he replied, that glint of gold more cheery and less cold now.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she replied. "It'll just take a second."

Gold looked to his wife with an apologetic sigh, and she squeezed his fingers. He slipped out of the booth, cane absent, and joined Emma over to a corner. "What's this about? If it's about next Saturday, I swear, he has no idea."

She smiled. "No, it's not. Although, thanks."

"How's it coming along?"

"It should be done in time." She glances over at him. "You don't think he expects?"

Gold frowned, a playful frown that hadn't been around much before. "Suspect he's getting a car for his birthday? It's every child's dream. But not one that happens." He grins. "But anyway, what's this about?"

"I was... Thinking."

"Uh huh." His eyebrows rise, waiting for a better answer. Impatient to get back to his wife.

"Well, remembering, technically."

"Remembering what?" He clasped his hands behind his back.

"About... About Graham."

...His face fell. "Yes." He looked away. "I could tell you were having bereavement issues. That's why I said nothing when that good-for-nothing pirate was caught snogging you outside Granny's." He hides his fury well these days. "All the soldiers lost and what, yes?"

"Well... More specifically. There was a certain... Deal you and I made."

His eyes darkened, dangerous and warning. "A Deal which promised discretion. And a certain secret kept."

"Yeah. I know." She looks over to Belle, now, who was watching Henry fondly. It was odd how, after so little time, she had made such an impact on the boy. She really did bring people together. "...I understand it a bit better now."

"Do ya now?" His voice was unamused.

"Yeah. Honestly. I mean... I see how you two are. She's precious to you. It must have really hurt to have her used as a weapon against you."

He blinks. The tightness of his jaw eases a bit, and he looks over his shoulder at his wife. You can see it in his eyes -- even looking at her brings him a kind of peace. Like he has to remind himself she's still there, and he's still relieved to see it. He looked down at his hand, playing with a gold ring on one finger. "Yeah. It really did."

"...That whole thing about dragons, having that one missing chink of armour. Weak spot kind of thing."

"Like a blade to the heart," he answered softly. "Exactly right."

"Well... I don't know if the Deal is necessary anymore. And I wanted to make it up to you."

He frowned. "How is that?"

Before she lost her nerve, she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek, friendly and without meaning. "...Remember what your son said. You don't Deal with family."

He tensed in surprise... eyeing her. Not knowing what to say. She just gave him a wink.

"Same time Thursday? We got some upholstery for the back seat."

"Yeah," he said softly. "Thursday's fine."

"Alright. I'll let him know." She moved back to her bar, and Henry grinned at her. She smiled back and watched Gold.

He took another moment, digesting the conversation, his eyes on Belle. But after a while, he returned to her, greeting her with a soft, "Hey", and you could see the tension melt away.

They were really good for each other. And they loved each other. And Emma knew how important that was when you lost someone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those very curious things that I've experience that people tend to look at me oddly for: bereavement sex. It's odd, knowing someone close to you is dead. It makes you hyper aware that you are alive, and procreation is part of that. I had the thought that a post-Skin Deep Gold in mourning for Belle and an Emma in mourning for Graham could be a rather volatile situation. Add in some foiling with the loss of Baelfire, and something similar happens, only Gold has his Belle and Emma has... Killian. If they don't use bereavement as part of the CaptainSwan ship, they're really doing the situation a disservice. Anyway. Odd little piece from a character I usually don't write in. Hope you lot liked it.


End file.
